


Coming to Terms

by emeraldsage85



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-30
Updated: 2015-09-30
Packaged: 2018-04-24 01:58:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 18,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4901173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emeraldsage85/pseuds/emeraldsage85
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry tries so hard to be a good boyfriend to Ginny but it just isn't working. He embarks on a journey to find out why and figures out who he really wants to be with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It never really works out with Ginny. Things are always awkward with her and Harry is never quite sure how this whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing is supposed to work. He supposes that he’s just simply rubbish at anything to do with girls and that maybe the secret to success is to try harder. He takes Ginny out on dates, buys her flowers, tells her that her hair looks nice, and listens to her complain about things, even though it annoys him. Still, the relationship feels uneasy, like he’s always doing something wrong. 

They fight frequently. Harry doesn’t know how to be the sort of boyfriend Ginny wants him to be and eventually he stops trying. Maybe being himself will do the trick, he thinks. All that mushy romantic stuff never really worked for them. Maybe they just aren’t a hearts and flowers couple. It only makes things even worse. Ginny accuses Harry of cheating on her, which he vehemently denies. He tries to reassure her that everything is okay, that he knows he’s a rubbish boyfriend but he’ll try harder. 

His proclamations only work for so long before everything falls to pieces. The last straw comes when Ginny wants them to start sleeping together and Harry denies her advances. His excuses don’t hold water this time as she gets angry.

“Look, I’m sorry, ok?” Harry says. “I’m just not ready for that!”

“It’s been almost a year, Harry! What’s wrong with you? It’s like you’re just going through the motions with our relationship,” Ginny snaps.

Harry rubs the back of his head while peering up at her through downcast eyes.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I do like you and everything. I think maybe I’m just terrible with romance or something. I always have been,” he says.

It’s a lame explanation and he knows it. 

“Harry, this just isn’t working. I don’t think we should see each other anymore,” Ginny says with a note of despair in her trembling voice.

Harry decides that he can’t deny it anymore and he nods.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, really I am. Please don’t be angry with me,” he says hollowly.

“I’m not angry, just disappointed and sad. I’ll see you at Christmas?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Harry says.

“Harry, it’s okay. You’re still part of the family and everyone would be really upset if you didn’t come,” Ginny tells him.

“All right,” is all Harry can say. 

“Goodbye Harry,” she says before disapparating from his flat and disappearing from his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Within days everyone knows about Harry’s breakup with Ginny. Most of them tell him how terrible it is that they couldn’t make a go of it. Harry agrees that it was awful for him, which is the truth really, but inside he feels a secret sense of relief. 

He still doesn’t know what’s wrong with him. Maybe he’ll never understand girls. After all, both of his fledgling relationships have ended in disaster. Whatever it was he had with Cho never really got off the ground. At the time he wrote it off due to the pressure of being the Chosen One and Cho not being over Cedric. How could anything possibly work out when his girlfriend was pining for another man? But this relationship with Ginny - he tried everything to keep it together and it still went wrong. 

Harry decides he needs to talk to someone about this, preferably someone female. Hermione will do. After all she’s his best friend and she’s incredibly smart, meaning she should be able to solve the problem quickly and easily. The next time they meet for tea Harry tells her about his relationship woes.

“I’ve never felt the way I’m supposed to about any girl,” Harry complains.

“Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet,” Hermione suggests. “It’s not like you’re going to fall madly in love with the first girl you meet and live happily ever after. You have to keep trying, see what’s out there.”

“Well it worked for you and Ron,” Harry says.

When Hermione shifts uncomfortably Harry gets a sinking feeling. Still, he has to ask. 

“Are things not going well?”

“We’ve been fighting a lot lately. It’s just…relationships are work Harry. Things aren’t always as easy as you think they should be.”

“But when you went back to Hogwarts you were okay and that was a long distance relationship. Why are you fighting so much now?” Harry asks.

“I don’t know. It just seemed to happen when we moved in together. It’s like it’s harder to be so close all the time,” Hermione says. 

“Well I hope you can work things out,” is all Harry can think of to say.

When he leaves Hermione’s flat Harry feels more confused than ever. Hermione certainly hasn’t helped and now he’s worried about her relationship with Ron. Then an idea hits him square in the face: he needs to talk to Ron. Girls are always so messy and complicated with their emotions; maybe another bloke would be more helpful. Harry takes Ron out for a pint and begins complaining about girls.

“Tell me about it,” Ron moans. “Hermione’s driving me mad! She wants us to get married!”

“You don’t want to?” Harry asks.

“We’ve been fighting a lot lately. I don’t think getting married is going to solve that,” Ron says.

“Well what are you fighting about?” Harry asks. 

“Everything,” Ron says cryptically. 

Harry decides not to press the issue and Ron changes the subject.

“You know, you never did tell me what happened with you and Ginny,” he says before taking a swig of his beer. 

“It just didn’t work out. I liked her but it just…wasn’t right. That’s why she broke up with me. Truthfully I think she’s better off now,” Harry says. 

“That can’t be the whole story. C’mon mate, I know you. We’ve been best friends long enough that I think I can tell when you’re not giving me the truth,” Ron says.

“I’m just not good with girls,” Harry blurts out, “I tried, I mean I really tried to make her happy and do all those things that girls expect you do for them. But I was rubbish at it and Ginny just got tired of it I suppose.” 

Ron nods. 

“I know what you mean. Sometimes Hermione makes me feel like I’m about two inches tall,” he says. 

A moment of silence passes between them, neither of them really knowing what to say. Then Ron pushes his empty glass aside and stands up.

“Well I better go home then. Hermione’ll kill me if I come home drunk at two a.m. again.”

“Got you on a short leash, does she?” Harry snickers.

“Shut up,” Ron mutters. 

When he heads home Harry feels somewhat better but still confused. Having someone to commiserate with is good but it hasn’t helped him to figure out exactly why his relationship with Ginny failed so spectacularly. He wonders if he’ll ever figure it out.


	3. Chapter 3

When Harry needs to clear his head he takes the train. He doesn’t go anywhere in particular, just wanders from place to place. When he has free time he tries visiting different parts of muggle London. The places he ends up are sometimes a bit dodgy but at least it’s an escape from being the Boy Who Lived, now amended to the Boy Who Defeated Voldemort by the Daily Prophet. Harry loathes his celebrity with every fibre of his being sometimes and it’s easiest just to go somewhere where he can be a regular bloke, even if he can’t use magic. 

Tonight he gets off the train and ambles around in a neighbourhood he’s never been to before. He doesn’t know what it’s called and he doesn’t bother to read the street signs. If he gets lost he can find a place to discretely apparate home. The street is filled with people tonight, clustered around the many bars that seem to be in the area. Most of the patrons are simply out to smoke before heading indoors again to continue imbibing. 

Harry’s not usually much of a drinker but tonight he decides he feels like having a beer. He chooses a nondescript looking place with a dull brick front. The proudly cheerful sign overhead proclaims it to be The Mineshaft. Harry briefly thinks that’s an odd name for a bar but he goes in anyways. It’s probably no different from any of the others.

He seats himself at a table and orders a pint of Guinness. When he’s out with friends Seamus always takes the piss out of him for drinking it but Harry doesn’t care. He likes the taste much better than that stale Goblin piss that passes for beer with his mates. The lot of them are cheap drunks.

Harry surveys the scene around him and realizes that this bar is not exactly what he expected. It’s much more colourful than the places that Seamus and Dean drag him to. There definitely is a rainbow theme going on with the décor; it seems that nothing has escaped being swathed in multi-coloured frivolity. On a stage in the middle of the dance floor a DJ is playing music at an ear-splitting volume. Some people at the front are dancing but not much is happening yet. It’s still a bit early and the crowd hasn’t yet settled in for the night. Harry notes with interest that most of the crowd appears to be male and he thinks that there will be quite a few disappointed men who were out to pull tonight.

Then he notices it; men dancing with other men, men kissing each other, men who appear to be couples, and it hits him. He’s managed to stumble into a gay bar. Harry snickers to himself about how pathetically dim he’s been. How could a rainbow themed bar named The Mineshaft not be a gay bar? Harry doesn’t really care. What he wants now is to go home. He’s finished his pint and he decides he’ll probably take the train home. Apparating with alcohol in his system always makes him queasy. As he gets up from his chair a tall red-haired bloke steps in front him and prevents him from making his exit. 

“Going somewhere?” the man asks. 

“Yeah, home,” Harry says.

His hand automatically goes to his back pocket where is wand is. Then he remembers where he is and his arm drops to his side. Force of habit, he thinks. The man is obviously not a threat.

“Too bad, I was going to buy you a drink,” he says with an air of much disappointment. 

For a split second Harry thinks about simply ending the conversation and leaving but he’s struck by how much the man reminds him of Ron. He’s around six feet tall with a shock of red hair, blue eyes, and freckles. 

Purely on impulse, Harry says, “Well I guess it wouldn’t hurt. I’d like to know the name of the person who’s buying it for me though.”

The redhead sticks out his hand for Harry to shake and says, “Lucien Astor. I know you’re going to ask about my name so I’ll tell you right now: my mother had a thing for romance novels.”

“Harry Potter,” Harry says with a grin.

Harry takes a seat at the table again while Lucien goes to the bar. He’s not entirely sure why he’s staying but it beats the alternative of going home and doing nothing for the rest of the night. Lucien returns with two pints and hands one to Harry.

“I’ve been watching you since you came in, “he says. “You don’t really seem like the type to be in a place like this.” 

“Well truthfully I had no idea this was a gay bar, “Harry says.

Lucien bursts into laughter.

“How could you not know? The name, the décor, the hot boys kissing; it all sort of screams gay,” he chortles.

Harry can’t help but feel embarrassed so he sips his drink in silence while he waits for his companion’s laughter to die down. 

“Are you even gay or are you confused about that too?” Lucien teases.

“I dunno, I guess I’m straight. I mean I’ve never really thought about it otherwise,” Harry mumbles.

Lucien raises an eyebrow and says, “That is so not a straight boy answer.”

Harry attempts to think of a biting retort but all that comes out of his mouth is, “I had a girlfriend.”

“That’s not really an indicator of straightness, you know. Did you really like being with her? When you kissed did you get butterflies in your stomach? Did you feel like your whole body was on fire and you just wanted to rip her clothes off?”

“Not really. I mean we liked each other but it just didn’t work out. Maybe I just haven’t found the right person,” Harry admits. 

“More like the right gender,” Lucien laughs. “Let’s go and dance.”

He gets up from the table and extends his hand to Harry, who pointedly ignores it.

“I don’t dance. I’m really terrible at it,” he says. 

“Most of the people out there are so pissed they can barely stand. You’ll fit right in,” Lucien insists. 

Against his better judgement Harry takes the proffered hand and allows himself to be lead out onto the dance floor. It turns out that Lucien is an excellent dancer. Harry only manages to shuffle about awkwardly while he plots his escape. He’s tired, he has to be at Auror training early tomorrow, and he’s feeling a bit uncomfortable. Lucien, however, is not content to let him edge away. As the music changes to a slower tempo, he reels Harry in and wraps both arms around him. Harry knows he really should be leaving but still he doesn’t make any move to leave the arms of his partner. There are worse places he could be than the dance floor of a gay bar in the arms of an attractive bloke.

Attractive? Harry gives his head a shake. He’s gone barmy and it really is time to leave. He lifts his head to tell Lucien that he wants to go but never quite gets there. Lucien kisses him and suddenly all thoughts leave his mind. As warm, pliant lips press against his, Harry feels the very breath being stolen from his body. It’s nothing like the dull, fumbling clashing of teeth and tongues he had with Cho and Ginny. This is something so much better. White hot arousal sears through Harry’s body and he can feel a response rapidly forming below the belt. Then his brain re-engages and terror sets in.

Harry pushes Lucien away with a stuttered, “I-I have t-to go,” before fleeing the bar. 

He makes a run for it and slips into the nearest alley outside of the bar, hoping that the man won’t follow him. He no longer wants to take the train. The evening has been spoiled now and he just wants to be home in his own bed. Despite the alcohol in his system, Harry disappartes and lands outside of Grimmald Place. 

When he lets himself in he goes straight to bed. He wants to forget, needs it. What was he thinking, kissing another bloke? Stupid, that’s what it was, he decides; just a moment of drunken idiocy that deserves to be forgotten. Harry closes his eyes and tries to put all thoughts of sexuality from his head. He has an early day tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you all right? You seem like you’re off your game today,” Ron says during a break in Auror training.

“I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep that well so I’m tired,” Harry says.

It’s not entirely a lie. He spent most of last night tossing and turning, unable to get that kiss out of his head. It’s worse now with Ron here because his red hair reminds Harry of Lucien. He needs to forget it ever happened by tucking it deep down inside and not mentioning it to anyone. The first step is to stop thinking about it.

“You’d tell me if something was really bothering you, right?” Ron asks.

“Of course, you’re my best mate,” Harry says with what he hopes is a convincing smile. 

“Time’s up!” Dawlish hollers and everyone scrambles back to the training room.

Later that night Harry decides he’s going to stay in. He lies on the couch and idly flips through a Quidditch magazine but he feels restless. He briefly thinks about taking the train but quickly discards that idea. That’s what got him into trouble in the first place.

_You’ve been reckless Harry_ , Dumbledore’s voice echoes in his head. 

There are plenty of other things he can do; he just needs to pick something. Harry stares at the crackling fire for what feels like an eternity before deciding to firecall Ron. Even if they don’t go anywhere, at least they can have a conversation about something, anything, that will take his mind off that damned trip to the Mineshaft. Harry sticks his head into the fireplace and closes his eyes against the disorienting feeling of having his head whirled about while his body remains firmly planted on the floor. When he finally comes to the kitchen in Ron and Hermione’s flat it’s deserted.

“Ron?” Harry calls.

There’s no answer. Somewhere in the distance he hears something break. 

“You complete and utter arse Ronald Weasley! I can’t believe that you let this go on for months!” Hermione is shrieking.

“Hermione-“ Ron starts but he can’t get a word in edgewise. 

“You’re a coward! You let me find out like this?” 

“Hermione, please,” Ron says. “It was a mistake.”

“A mistake? That’s what you’re calling this? Do you expect me to just go on and pretend that everything is normal like I don’t see it? I’m not stupid,” Hermione says shrilly.

Harry hears feet stomping towards the kitchen and he decides that now is probably not the best time to be firecalling his best friends. Before he can pull his head out of the fireplace Ron trudges into the kitchen and flings open the door to the liquor cabinet. Harry’s hopes of slipping away unseen are dashed when Ron does a double take.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snaps.

“Nothing I was just leaving. I’m sorry,” Harry says quickly.

“Wait,” Ron says hastily.

He drops to his knees in front of the fireplace.

“If I need a place to go in the next few days, could I stay with you? It’d be just until this whole thing blows over. I’ll be a good houseguest, I swear.”

“Ron, you’re always welcome here and you know it. You better head her off at the pass before she really gets going,” Harry tells him.

“See you at work,” Ron says.

He gets up and heads back in the direction of the living room. Harry pulls his head out of the fireplace. When he’s fully back at Grimmauld Place he gets to his feet, brushing the soot from his clothing. He knows things aren’t going well between Ron and Hermione but it seems he really has no idea just how bad it is. Harry goes upstairs to run a bath. In the tub he frets about whether Ron and Hermione will make up. This isn’t the first time they’ve fought but it’s the first that Ron’s ever asked for a place to stay. Harry shuts his eyes and ponders whether relationships are just simply not worth the trouble. 

Still, he can’t deny that he wants someone in his life. It would be nice to have someone to sleep next to at night, to talk to about his dreams and his fears, to raise a family with. Harry tries to picture the idyllic life with a wife and kids but he can’t quite see them. For nearly a year the picture was filled with Ginny and their future red-haired children but now it remains empty and he’s not sure who would fill that role. He can’t even picture the sort of girl he’d like in general because it’s never really worked that way. He’s always supposed that he doesn’t have a “type”. 

Harry’s thoughts return to Lucien. That red hair, those blue eyes, and the feeling of being held by someone so strong and masculine flash before his eyes. And then the memory of the kiss pops up again and Harry can’t think of ever enjoying a kiss that much with Cho or Ginny. He feels the first stirrings of sexual arousal deep within his groin and his hand drifts downward to his cock. He replays the scene in his mind’s eye over and over while he brings himself off. When he’s done he lets out a cry of pleasure and lies back against the tub spent. 

And then it hits him like a freight train. Eighteen years’ worth of not being any good with girls or really having any attraction to them versus one night of kissing a random bloke and enjoying it so immensely he’s wanked to it. He’s not an idiot, despite what Professor Snape always thought. He’s put two and two together and finally the answer is clear.

“Oh fuck,” Harry says out loud.


	5. Chapter 5

Ron and Hermione break up. Ron moves out of their shared flat and becomes Harry’s roommate. Harry knows his best friend can’t afford to live on his own but he has to feign extreme loneliness in order to get Ron to move in. If he thought Harry was doing it to be charitable he’d never agree. Living with another person takes some getting used to but he decides he can manage just fine. Besides, it is sort of nice to have someone else around, even if that someone is a bit horrible at times.

Ron is dark, distant, and moody for the first two weeks after the breakup. He won’t tell Harry what happened and Hermione isn’t speaking to either of them. She tells them she just wants to be alone for a while and they oblige. Harry doesn’t press Ron for details. Ron needs time alone and besides, Harry’s got his own problems to worry about – namely the fact that he’s gay.

The first person he tells is Ginny. He firecalls her one night and she asks if he can visit to tell her some important news. For a moment he thinks she’s going to heave cold water on the fire but then she agrees and lets him step through. 

“I wanted to tell you this before anyone else, Gin,” Harry says as he sits at her kitchen table, staring down at his hands. “I owe it to you for being such a prat during our whole relationship.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Ginny snaps.

“I deserved that,” Harry says. 

He takes a deep breath and then lets it out with a gasp. It’s going to be harder to say the words than he ever thought possible.

“Ginny, the reason why our relationship didn’t work out is because...” he falters. When Ginny says nothing he carries on with, “I tried to make things work with us. I really tried and I just couldn’t get it right. I couldn’t feel the way I was supposed to or do the things I was supposed to because it all seemed…wrong somehow. But I know what’s wrong now.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake Harry, just spit it out,” Ginny barks.

That’s Ginny, always direct and to the point. 

“I’m gay,” Harry says.

For a moment he can’t look at her. He doesn’t want to see the condemnation in her eyes when she realizes that he’s played her for a fool. When he finally does meet her gaze he realizes that she’s staring at him with a mixture of shock and relief.

“Did you know this whole time?” she breathes.

“No. I had no idea until about two weeks ago, I swear,” Harry says.

Ginny lets out a breath Harry didn’t realize she’d been holding. 

“I’ve spent so long, so many nights thinking about what happened. I didn’t understand why you just couldn’t feel the way I feel about you. I thought there was something wrong with me. I guess now I know what it is: I’m not a bloke,” Ginny says sadly.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you,” Harry says as he gets to his feet. 

He wants to give her a hug but he’s not sure if she’d let him so he stands there somewhat awkwardly. 

“Just go,” Ginny says.

“See you at Christmas?” he asks, echoing her previous good-bye.

“Yeah,” she says.

Harry steps back through the fire and into the living room of Grimmauld Place. Ron is in the kitchen when Harry arrives. He seems to be trying to cook something but it’s obviously not working out so well from the amount of cursing he’s doing.

“What are you doing?” Harry asks.

“I tried to make spaghetti but it’s all stuck to the pot!” Ron says. 

“Did you stir it while it was cooking?” Harry asks.

“You have to stir it?” Ron moans with a total look of horror on his face. 

Harry bites his lip, trying to stifle a laugh but it does no good. A snicker escapes and suddenly he’s laughing harder than he has in weeks.

“It’s not funny!” Ron says desperately as he frantically tries to scrape noodles from the bottom of the pot.

“Ron,” Harry manages between snorts of laughter. “You’re a wizard. Just use a scouring charm. You can eat the rest of the noodles just fine.”

“You know I don’t know fuck all about cooking!” 

When Harry manages to regain his composure he pulls out his wand and aims it at the offending pot.

“Scourgify!”

All of the crusted-on noodles disappear and the pot becomes so clean it’s gleaming. Ron stares at Harry with a confused expression.

“Where’d you learn that?” he asks.

“Believe or not, your mother,” Harry says.

“Well I guess I should thank you for that by letting you have some of my spaghetti. I made too much anyways,” Ron says.

“Thanks, Ron.” 

The two of them load up their plates and sit down to their meal. Ron doesn’t say much but he’s been extremely withdrawn since he and Hermione broke up. 

“Back at work tomorrow, hey?” Harry says as a way of breaking the tension.

“Yeah, it’s going to be mental. Dawlish is bringing out the obstacle course again,” Ron tells him.

“No! Remember the last time? I had to spend all day waiting with Abbott at the nurse’s station,” Harry groans.

Ron chuckles and says, “Better you than me, mate.”

Silence descends for a few moments while they both chew their food. 

Then Ron says, “I was looking for you earlier. Where’d you go?”

“Ginny’s place.”

“Did you two work things out?” Ron asks.

“No. We talked about...er, things….and we’re not getting back together,” Harry says.

“I’m sorry,” Ron says, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “I guess some things really aren’t meant to be. You two seemed like you were great together.”

“You’re not angry that I broke your sister’s heart, are you? Cause I’ve been waiting for you to punch me in the face or something, “Harry says.

“Ginny broke up with you. That’s on her head. Now if you broke up with her you’d be getting a punch to the face for sure,” Ron tells him.

He grins after he says it and Harry knows that his best friend isn’t really serious. Still he can’t bring himself to smile. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, knowing that if Ron knew the truth he wouldn’t be joking anymore.

“You know you never did say what happened with you and Hermione,” Harry remarks.

Ron’s face darkens and Harry realizes that he’s said completely the wrong thing. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he growls.

“That’s fine,” Harry says quickly. “I just wanted you to know that if you ever want to talk about it I’ll listen.”

“Thanks,” Ron says gruffly.

Harry decides that poking that particular nest of doxy eggs was probably the worst idea he’s had today. He changes the subject back to work again. While Ron prattles on about the various hexes they’ll need to practice this week Harry thinks about the possibly of telling Ron he’s gay. 

Harry’s not sure it will end well. His best friend has never expressed any homophobia but Harry realizes that the explanation of _your sister and I broke up because I wasn’t attracted to her and then I kissed someone who could be your twin and realized I was gay_ is probably going to earn him a bat bogy hex or two.

He wishes things didn’t have to be so complicated.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry thinks about going to a gay bar again. The problem is he doesn’t know if there are any gay bars for wizards anywhere. If there are, they aren’t advertised very well and he’s certainly not going to ask Ron. It’s not like he could get away without being recognized anyway. In the end he decides that it will have to be a muggle bar, specifically the Mineshaft. Maybe he’ll run into Lucien again and he can explain what happened. Maybe they can recreate The Kiss, as he’s been calling it in his head for the past two weeks. This entire time it’s been fantastic fodder for wanking and he wouldn’t mind a little more of it. 

He’s just getting ready when an owl swoops through the open window and drops a bit of parchment onto the kitchen table. It’s from Hermione and she’s begging Harry to come and visit. From the tone, Harry can tell that she’s distraught and can probably use a friend. There’s no way he’s going out now. Hermione needs him and his sense of duty will never let him be so selfish as to abandon her. He apparates to her flat and knocks on the door.

“Coming,” Hermione calls.

When she answers the door she looks terrible. Her eyes are red, her hair is a wadded-up ball of frizz, and she’s wearing a pair of old pajamas with a dressing gown thrown hastily overtop.

“Harry! Thanks for coming,” she sniffles.

She ushers him inside and busies herself with making them tea. They curl up on the living room couch and Harry waits for Hermione to confide in him.

“I’m sorry I asked you to come over. I know you must have had other plans,” she says.

“Not really,” Harry lies.

When she doesn’t say anything, Harry takes her hand in his and squeezes it gently.

“You’re not coping so well, are you?” he asks.

“No. The breakup just hit me really hard. I thought…I thought we had something special, me and Ron. I thought we’d be married someday,” Hermione says.

Tears pool in her eyes and she fishes a crumpled tissue from the pocket of her robe to wipe them with.

“What happened? Ron won’t tell me anything,” Harry asks.

Hermione looks at him wide-eyed.

“He’s moved in with you but he won’t say it? He’s always been a coward,” she complains.

“What?”

Hermione swipes at her eyes again and sniffles.

“He’s in love with someone else,” she says finally.

“With who? Was he cheating on you? I swear to Merlin Hermione, if he was cheating I’ll break his legs!” Harry barks.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” she says hastily. “I don’t think he even really recognized it at first but then it became sort of obvious. He said…well he said someone else’s name in bed. At first it was a joke. He played it off like it was just a slip of the tongue and he didn’t mean it but then it kept happening. I tried to talk to him about it but he’d just get angry with me. And we started fighting all the time over stupid little things. Harry, I love him but he doesn’t want me!”

She starts sobbing then and Harry’s not quite sure of what to do. He sets his cup of tea down on the coffee table and pulls her in for a hug.

“It’s his loss then. If he’s too blind to see how great you are then he can be a miserable git with whoever he’s really in love with,” he says fiercly.

When they let go Hermione manages a soft, “Thanks.”

“Whose name did he say?” Harry asks.

“I don’t want to reveal that. It would embarrass him too much. Even though I hate him right now I don’t want to do that to him.”

“It wasn’t somebody really awful, was it? Like Filch? Or Hagrid? Or Professor McGonigall?” Harry teases.

When Hermione lets out a laugh Harry takes that as his cue to carry on.

“Oh no, was it Malfoy?”

Hermione bursts into a fit of giggles and laughs until she’s clutching her side because it hurts to breath. Harry joins in and for a moment he forgets his troubles as they laugh themselves silly.

“Oh Harry, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Hermione manages to gasp. “Only you could make something this bad funny.’”

“Are you kidding? What would I do without you? I’d be dead several times over now without your brilliance,” Harry says.

A moment of silence passes between them as they’re both lost to their thoughts.

Finally Hermione says, “We both survived the war, waiting for the day when we’d be happy but it’s like it never came, isn’t it? Neither of us had a happy ending. I guess things just weren’t meant to work out…me and Ron, you and Ginny.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything because he knows what’s coming next and sure enough, Hermione asks the dreaded question.

“What happened with you and Ginny? I was so sure the two of you were perfect for each other.”

Harry takes a deep breath and steels himself before answering.

“I couldn’t love her, not the way she wanted to be loved,” he says.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I’m gay,” Harry says bluntly.

It’s easier this time. Maybe it’s the fact that Hermione’s his best friend or maybe because he’s not terrified of being hexed into next week but this time he’s able to say it without fumbling around.

“No way!” Hermione says with a barking laugh.

“It’s not funny,” Harry says, feeling totally confused by her reaction.

“No, it’s not. You just caught me by surprise is all. I’m okay with it, really I am,” she insists. 

Harry’s not really sure what to say to that so he just sips his tea.

“Does Ron know?” Hermione asks.

“No. I’m sort of afraid of being punched in the face once he finds out why Ginny and I really broke up.”

“You should tell him. If he finds out that you were keeping this from him and I knew he’ll be furious,” Hermione advises. 

“I know. I just need some time. Only you and Ginny know so far,” Harry says.

Hermione’s eyebrows shoot up but she manages to refrain from commenting. Harry decides that now is certainly the best time to talk to someone about what’s been going on and the whole story of the incident at the Mineshaft with Lucien pours out of him. When he’s done Hermione lets out a low whistle.

“Wow, Harry, You don’t do anything by halves, do you?” she says.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry says defensively.

“Well not everyone just kisses a boy and says, ‘Oh I guess I’m gay now!’” Hermione jokes.

“But I did.”

She grins at him and then pokes him in the side.

“So, are you going to find this Lucien again?” she enquires.

“I dunno. I thought about it but I’m not sure he would want to see me again. I don’t even know if I’ll be able to find him,” Harry says. 

“Well maybe you should. You deserve to be happy, Harry,” Hermione says. 

“So do you,” he tells her.

She gives him a sad smile and says, “Someday.”

When Harry finally leaves Hermione’s flat he feels lighter and less burdened somehow. It’s a huge weight off his shoulders to have told a friend and not been rejected out of hand. As he steps through the fire into Grimmauld Place he thinks about how lucky he is to have Hermione as a friend. 

The only thing left now is to tell Ron…


	7. Chapter 7

Harry’s alarm goes off and he stumbles out of bed in a complete stupor. He really doesn’t want to wake up and go to work today because he’s tired and not in the best of moods. Still he soldiers on with his morning routine and is passable company by the time he gets downstairs. Ron is at the stove, prodding something in the frying pan when Harry walks into the kitchen. 

“Should I scream or cast aguamenti?” he jokes.

“Hey, I can make eggs without destroying the place. Do you want some?” 

“Yeah,” Harry yawns.

He pours himself a cup of strong black coffee and plops down at the table. As he watches Ron he’s struck by how much older and more tired his friend looks today. Still, those jeans he’s wearing do make his arse look-

 _What the bloody hell are you thinking? Just because you’re gay doesn’t mean you should ogle your straight best friend!_ Harry sighs and tries to think about Quidditch to take his thoughts away from things he shouldn’t be thinking about. It doesn’t help much. Eventually he resorts to picturing Umbrage in a bikini just to make it stop. 

“Are you all right? You seem sort of tense today,” Ron says as he sets a plate of eggs down in front of Harry.

“I didn’t sleep well and I’m just not looking forward to the obstacle course today,” Harry says.

“Same here,” Ron admits.

Harry tucks into his eggs and tries not to look at his best friend. He’s feeling a bit embarrassed by his earlier thoughts and he doesn’t want anyone prying. 

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong? You’ve been a little weird lately. I could help, you know,” Ron offers, resting a hand on Harry’s arm. 

Electric sparks shoot up his body and Harry nearly jerks his arm away. There really is something wrong with him this morning and he can’t seem to shake it. For a brief moment Harry considers spilling the truth about his sexuality but he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead he shakes his head and pastes on what he hopes is a convincing smile. 

“Really, I’m okay,” he says reassuringly. “How about you? You look ragged out.”

Ron rubs the back of his neck as he sits down with his own plate and sighs.

“I’m just tired because I didn’t sleep much either. I guess I was…thinking too much.”

“Is it about Hermione?” Harry asks.

“Sort of. I’ve just been thinking about why we broke up and well…she never really was the one for me. There was always someone else, even when I didn’t realize it. I thought I was in love with her during our fourth year at Hogwarts. I even felt jealous when she was with anyone but me but I think I was really more terrified of losing her as a friend to some guy. She’d start spending all her time with him and leave us behind and that scared me because we can’t live without her brilliance. It wasn’t really love though. I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me to.”

 _I couldn’t love her the way she wanted me to._ It hangs in the air, echoing Harry’s explanation about his own break up and he swallows hard. Ron couldn’t be, could he? Harry quickly dismisses the thought as stupid. After all, this is Ron he’s thinking about. Ron’s been straight as an arrow since their first year at Hogwarts.

“Who is she?” Harry asks.

“What?” Ron says.

“The girl you’re really in love with. Who is she?”

“A friend. I’m not ready to say just yet,” Ron mutters.

Harry decides not to push. Ron will tell him when the time is right and as best friends they eventually tell each other anything anyways. 

“Well I hope she’s nice,” Harry says lamely before going back to his eggs.

Ron doesn’t say much after that and they floo to the Ministry in silence. They don’t exchange much talk as they change into their robes but Harry doesn’t mind. He’s focused on getting through the obstacle course in one piece and he knows that the rest of the recruits are doing the same. It’s a very long and hard day as Dawlish puts them through the paces but most of them manage to come out unscathed. Only Abbott is sent to the nurse’s station, this time with a broken nose.

“Hey Harry, some of the guys are going out for drinks. Want to come along?” Ron asks as they change into their street clothes. 

“No thanks. I just want to go home. I think I’m going to bed early tonight,” Harry says.

Ron looks disappointed and Harry can feel guilt building inside of him. He hates lying but he has plans for tonight that no one can know about. 

“Crap. Well maybe next time. You look knackered anyways. I’ll see you at home?” Ron says.

“Yeah, see you later,” Harry tells him.

When they leave the locker room they go their separate ways – Ron to the first floo grate with the men heading to the pub and Harry to the second grate to floo home. Once the green smoke has faded Harry steps out of the fireplace into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place and immediately goes upstairs to change. He’s not sure what to wear tonight. He’s never been the most fashionable but he hopes he can put something together. After discarding several choices he finally settles on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt covered by a gray hoodie. It’s not exactly going to turn heads but it will do. After a quick cup of coffee downstairs Harry decides he’s going to apparate tonight. He closes his eyes and disappears into the night.


	8. Chapter 8

The bar is in full swing tonight and there are several good looking men on the dance floor. Harry doesn’t fancy any of them though. He has one mission: to find Lucien. That proves to be easier said than done as he wades through the throngs of people packing the venue. Twice he gets asked to dance but each time he waves them off, not content to do anything but achieve his quest. 

After nearly an hour he decides that maybe he shouldn’t have come. It was clearly a stupid idea to try to rekindle the fantasy of The Kiss. Harry decides it’s time to leave and come back another day. Before he departs to the alley he needs the loo. After relieving himself at the closest urinal, Harry is washing his hands when the stall door opens. Out strides the object of all of Harry’s desires: Lucien. Harry’s breath catches in his throat and for a moment his brain disengages. Finally he manages to get his act together and say something.

“Lucien?” 

Lucien looks up from where he’s washing his hands and frowns.

“Yeah?” he asks, seeming a little confused. 

“It’s me,” Harry says.

“Sorry, not ringing any bells. Have we met before?” Lucien asks.

Harry’s heart sinks but his Gryffindor bravery pushes him to carry on.

“I’m Harry. We met here a couple of weeks ago. You sort of, um, kissed me and I, uh, ran away.”

Comprehension finally dawns on Lucien’s face and he snaps his fingers.

“Oh yeah, I remember you. Finally decided to get over your fear of being gay?” he teases.

“Something like that,” Harry says.

“Well I really hope things work out for you. There are plenty of nice blokes around here and I’m sure you can easily meet one. Sorry to run but I’ve got to meet my boyfriend. See you around some time,” Lucien says as he discards the paper towel he used to dry his hands.

“Yeah, see you,” is all Harry can manage to say.

In a split second Lucien is out the door and Harry’s left standing there at the sink, his wet hands dangling at his side. His heart sinks like a stone into the pit that is currently his stomach and he feels a burning sensation in his eyes. It takes him several moments before he can bring himself to move and dry his hands. 

_You’re an idiot_ , Harry castigates himself, a bleeding idiot for even coming here tonight. What did you expect? It was a mistake to visit the Mineshaft. He never should have come. Harry wanders through the noisy club, out into the night, and back to the alley where he apparates home. His emotional state doesn’t allow him to be very precise with his destination and he ends up at the front door of Grimmauld Place rather than inside, even though the wards are keyed to accept him. 

Harry opens the front door, wanders down the narrow hallway, and into the front room. He intends to flop on the sofa but it’s already taken. Ron is stretched out, wearing flannel pajama pants and a ratty old Chudley Cannons shirt. He looks to be reading one of Harry’s Quidditch magazines.

“Hey,” Harry says by way of greeting.

Ron closes the magazine and tosses it on the table.

“Where’ve you been?” he asks.

“Just…out. I had to run an errand,” Harry lies.

“That’s a load of dragon dung and we both know it,” Ron says. “Where have you really been going?” 

Harry sighs. He really doesn’t need this right now, not after the sting of his encounter with Lucien.

“Look, I just went out to do something and I’m back now, alright?” he says somewhat more sharply than he intends to. 

“What’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird ever since you broke up with Ginny and I know it’s not just because she left you. Now you’ve been disappearing and I don’t know where you’ve been going. Why won’t you tell me anything?” Ron pleads.

“What are you, my keeper?” Harry snaps.

When the tips of Ron’s ears turn red, Harry realizes that this not going to end well. Ron gets up from the sofa and draws himself up to his full 6’3” to tower over Harry. 

“I just thought that after eight years of us being friends you’d tell me if something was bothering you,” he says in a dangerously low tone. 

Harry takes a step back, trying to put some distance between them but Ron takes two forward. They’re close enough now that Harry could lean forward and rest his head on Ron’s chest if he wanted to. Again, he tries to shut out those thoughts. Now is not the time or place for them to happen.

“Fine! You want to know where I’ve been going? Sometimes I go to see Hermione because she’s been absolutely distraught over the breakup and she needs a friend. You bloody well know that I’m not taking sides here,” Harry snarls.

It’s a low blow and he knows it but it keeps Ron from getting too close to the truth. 

“How is she?” Ron asks, softer now.

“She’s upset, of course, but I think she’ll be okay,” Harry says. 

He begins heading up the stairs.

“This isn’t over. I know you’re still not telling me the whole truth,” Ron throws at him.

“Piss off,” Harry mutters.

Ron doesn’t reply and Harry’s not sure if he even heard. He doesn’t bother to turn back as he climbs the stairs to his bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

Harry does his best to avoid Ron over the next few days. When they find themselves in the kitchen together they don’t speak beyond what’s necessary. On this particular morning Harry watches Ron wearily as he eats his cereal. He really doesn’t want to talk but he takes the opportunity to ogle Ron’s arse before he turns around again. 

Harry knows it’s only going to be a matter of time before Ron tries to ask him what’s wrong again. When that time comes he won’t know what to say. How does someone say, “Your sister and I broke up because I’m gay and now I’ve been admiring you”, he wonders. Harry knows he’s not blind. The feelings of attraction stirring within him are only going to get worse if he doesn’t put a stop to it. He just needs to find someone he can actually have a relationship with, even if that is easier said than done. Harry thinks back to the last time he had tea with Hermione.

_“I’m sorry your meeting with Lucien didn’t turn out,” she says._

_“I guess I waited too long. I should have gone back earlier but I wasn’t ready to do that. He probably wouldn’t want me anyway. I don’t have a clue how to go about this whole being gay thing,” Harry complains._

_“Harry, it’s not like there’s an instruction manual or anything. It’s pretty much the same as trying to find someone when you’re straight. It’s not easy. You just need to figure it out as you go along. For all you know the right person could be right under your nose,” Hermione says._

_“Yeah, right, I’m sure the person I’m looking for will just fall right into my lap,” Harry says sarcastically._

_“You never know,” Hermione says with a smirk._

_For a second Harry wonders if she knows something he doesn’t but then he dismisses it._

Over breakfast Harry contemplates going to another bar. Maybe the Mineshaft just isn’t the right place for him with its flashing lights, loud music, and rainbow theme. Maybe he just needs to try somewhere tamer. For the millionth time Harry wishes that he didn’t have to go to a muggle bar. A wizard bar would be so much easier but with the Daily Prophet still printing multiple stories per issue about him there’s nowhere he can go without being recognized. Harry resolves to find a different place. In the meantime, he needs to apparate to work.

During training that day Dawlish decides to pair everyone off with a partner of equal magical strength. 

“Abbott, you’re with Smith, Macmillan with Finch, Gold with Thomas…”

Harry swallows hard and hopes against hope that he’ll be paired with someone other than Ron. 

“…and Potter with Weasley.”

Damn. There’s no backing out of this, not without making some sort of scene. Harry decides they can both be adult about this so he strolls casually over to Ron.

“Don’t go easy on me, okay?” he says.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They take their positions on the mat with wands at the ready for dueling. Harry shoots off a Flippendo jinx straight away but Ron manages to dodge it in time. When he gets back in position he tries to disarm Harry with Expelliarmus. Wise to Ron’s method of operating by now, Harry easily blocks it. After years of dueling together they run their practice like a well-oiled machine. As Harry focuses on how best to surprise Ron, he doesn’t see the stray jinx that comes his way from Abbott and Smith.

It hits him square in the back, knocking him flying across the room and hard into Ron. The two of them land heavily on the mat, knocking the air out of their lungs. For a moment Harry is dazed and can’t inhale a proper breath. As he gradually gets his bearings, he realizes he’s lying on top of Ron. Harry lifts his head to ask his best friend if he’s all right but when their eyes lock the words die on his lips. They’re close enough now that they could kiss and Ron really isn’t trying to shove him off. In fact, one of his arms comes up and wraps itself around Harry’s waist. Harry’s just about to say something, he’s not sure what, when someone else looms over them.

“Sorry about that,” Abbott says.

Harry quickly rolls off of Ron and lies on his back on the mat. 

“It’s okay. We survived,” Ron jokes as he gets to his feet. 

Abbott holds out a hand for Harry to grab and pulls him to his feet. 

“I’m really sorry. I don’t seem to be any good at this. First the obstacle course and now I do this. Dawlish will have my head,” Abbott babbles.

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll catch on,” Ron says.

As Abbott wanders back to join Smith, Harry glances at Ron. He wonders if he should say something. Maybe he should make a joke or apologize or something, he’s not sure what. But Ron is already across the mat and in position to duel.

“Ready?” he asks.

Harry nods and the duel is on again. When they’re finished, everyone heads to the locker room for nice, hot showers. Harry’s just getting dressed when Ron saunters out clad in a towel. The way it clings to his slim hips brings naughty thoughts to Harry’s mind. He quickly squelches them down by imagining the least sexy things he can think of and turning his back to his friend. To his dismay, Ron sits down beside him.

“Hey,” he says.

“Uh, hi,” Harry mutters.

“Look, I um, wanted to apologize for the other day. I shouldn’t have started a fight over not knowing where you are. I mean… I know you can handle yourself and everything. I was just concerned and I went about it the wrong way,” Ron tells him.

“I’m sorry I yelled. You’re right. I haven’t been telling you what’s going on but I’m just not ready to talk about it yet,” Harry says.

“Well when you do you know where to find me,” Ron says.

He turns to his locker and begins fishing around for his shirt. Harry tries not ogle him while he’s not looking. _This is ridiculous_ , he thinks. Hermione’s right. Maybe he really does need to go out and meet new people. And maybe once he finds a gay man who’s interested in him he can stop staring at his straight best friend.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry flips through the worn out old yellow pages attached to the pay phone. There has to be some sort of listing for gay bars; otherwise, how would muggles know where to look? He flips back and forth, first looking for bars, then pubs, but finds nothing that sticks out as being gay. As a final resort he turns to the clubs section. Halfway down the page is a club called The Male Box. With a name like that, how could it not be gay? Deciding to give it a try, he ducks into the nearest secluded space and apparates.

When Harry arrives, he realizes that he probably shouldn’t have come. The club is a ramshackle building in an area of the city known mostly for being seedy and he doesn’t like the looks of it. In truth, it sort of reminds him of the Shrieking Shack. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to check out the inside of the place for a moment, he reasons. After all, Hermione’s been telling him he needs to take chances and meet people.

After paying the cover charge, Harry wanders inside. It’s far from the cheerful, clean atmosphere of The Mineshaft. The place is downright dingy with its dirty, beer spattered floor, shabby booths, and grungy looking fake silk curtains. Harry thinks that whoever decorated the place has worse taste than he does as everything seems to be done up in a garish black and red motif. In the middle of the room are two poles on which nearly-naked, extremely fit men are performing gymnastics. 

Harry wanders to the bar and stands in line to order a drink. He’s acutely aware that he doesn’t fit in here, dressed in his nicest jeans, favourite t-shirt, and gray hoodie. Most of the club’s population seems to have a tight and short theme when it comes to clothing, combined with a love of mesh and extremely bright colours. 

After paying for his beer, Harry finds himself leaning against the wall in the far corner, watching the people go by. There’s no one here who really strikes his fancy, he hates dancing, and the music is way too loud for a conversation. After nearly twenty minutes of standing there awkwardly, Harry decides it’s time to leave. He’ll find somewhere else. Surely there has to be somewhere normal where he can just meet a nice bloke and get to know him, right?

After finishing his beer, he strides out the door and around the corner. He’ll apparate to the train station and find his way from there. He wanders into the alley behind the club but soon realizes he’ll need to walk further to find somewhere more secluded for apparating. In the shadows, three people are smoking. Two of them join hands and leave the alley, moving past him around the corner to the door of the club. 

Harry’s just turned his back to leave when he hears someone say, “Hey! Got a light?”

He wheels around to see a tall, burly man dressed in impossibly tight jeans and an extremely sheer t-shirt. 

“Sorry, I don’t smoke,” Harry says.

The man sidles up to him and says, “Pity. What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

Harry’s in no mood for small talk and this guy is definitely not his type.

“Leaving,” he says curtly.

“You really should stay. You’re cute in a dorky sort of way and there are lots of guys around here who would eat that up.”

“Thanks but I think I really need to go,” Harry says nervously.

As he makes a move to leave, the man’s hand shoots out and clamps onto his arm.

“I don’t think you heard me. I’d like you to stay,” he says menacingly.

“Don’t touch me,” Harry snaps.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like me?” the man growls. 

In an instant Harry finds himself pushed up against the wall as the man tries to force him into a bruising kiss. His wand’s in his back pocket but he can’t just reach it. Unable to get his closest hand free enough to grab it, Harry realizes that he needs to come up with a different game plan. Large hands are caressing him almost gently, reaching down to squeeze his crotch.

“Get off me!” Harry shrieks.

He’s not strong enough to shove the stranger’s considerable weight off of him so he tries to get a knee up with the intentions of delivering a sharp blow to the genitals. The man just chuckles and shoves him closer towards the wall.

“Stop, stop!” Harry cries desperately.

He still can’t reach his wand. The burly man backhands Harry across the face. While he’s still reeling from the blow he feels a hand wrap around his throat, choking the breath from his body.

“You fucking dirty little whore. You’re going to enjoy-“

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence because a hot pink purse nails him right in the head. Then someone is pulling Harry’s would-be attacker away and throwing him against the wall. Harry’s glasses are askew so he can only make out the barest shape of someone in a dress and heels.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” says a decidedly masculine voice. 

Harry finally adjusts his glasses and realizes that his saviour is a drag queen. She’s wearing a pink dress so tight it looks painted on, with matching pink stripper shoes and a blonde wig so high it makes her look a good three inches taller. She shoves the other man against the wall and smashes her right fist into his cheek with a resounding crack. 

“Get the fuck out of here and don’t come back!” she screeches. 

Only when the stranger takes his opportunity to scramble away does she turn to Harry.

“You all right sweetheart?” she asks.

Harry is dimly aware that his lip is bleeding. He touches it and his fingers come away wet with blood. A quick examination revels that his shirt is ripped but otherwise he seems to be fine.

“Yeah, I’m o-okay,” he croaks.

“Fucking sadistic bastard, preying on a young guy like you back here. Do you want me to call you a cab?” she says.

“No, I’m okay, really. My friend’s on his way to come and get me, actually. I’ll be fine,” Harry lies.

“You sure?” the drag queen asks.

“Yeah.”

Harry heads back to the opening of the alley. Halfway there he stops and turns around again.

“Thanks,” he says.

“Anytime hon,” she says.

Once he’s out of her sight, Harry breaks into a run and takes off like Voldemort himself is stalking him. He needs to get away, needs to find somewhere that’s out of the way. Finally he comes to an empty parking lot of a warehouse. It’s as good a place as any. Harry ducks around back and apparates to Grimmauld Place.


	11. Chapter 11

Harry apparates into the living room at Grimmauld Place, barely avoiding a crash landing on the coffee table but he knocks over Ron’s stack of Quidditch magazines anyway. Only once he hits the dingy carpet does the true weight of the attack hit him. He sinks to his knees and lets out a choked sob. It all went so wrong and now he can’t move, can’t breathe. His face hurts and he’s dimly aware that his left arm is throbbing as well. Harry unzips his hoodie and yanks it off. He’s greeted by the sight of blood running down his arm from a large raw patch where the skin is missing. Footsteps sound from the kitchen and Harry thinks _please, no. Please not Ron._

“Harry, is that you?” Ron calls. 

He steps through into the living room. When he catches sight of Harry, he rushes to his side.

“What happened?” 

“Splinched,” Harry manages in a strangled voice. 

Ron takes Harry’s arm in his hand and examines the wound for a moment. 

“It’s not bad, Harry, just a little skin. I think I can fix it. Accio first aid kit!” he says.

The first aid kit they keep in the bathroom zooms down to them and Ron rummages through it. He pulls out a small purple bottle and unstoppers it. Using the dropper, he drips a bit of the Essence of Dittany onto Harry’s skin. Harry gasps as it stings, beginning to scab over the wound to create fresh skin in place of what was lost.

“It only hurts for a little bit. It’ll feel better soon,” Ron promises.

Harry doesn’t say anything. He just sits there and watches as Ron bandages his arm. Then Ron cups Harry’s chin in his hand and tilts it up to get a better look at his lip.

“What happened to your face? That obviously isn’t from the splinching,” he says.

“Somebody hit me,” is all Harry tells him. 

“Who?” Ron asks.

“I went somewhere and I was attacked,” Harry says, hoping to give as little explanation as possible.

“I hope you hexed them to hell and back,” Ron mutters darkly.

Harry shakes his head.

“I couldn’t reach my wand. He had me pinned against the wall and I couldn’t get to it or get free. I thought for a minute there he was really going to… to hurt me. He wasn’t going to let me go but this drag queen-“

“A what?” Ron interrupts, looking puzzled.

“A drag queen. That’s when muggle men dress like women. She scared him away and I just ran for it. I was so shaken that I apparated from the first place I could find and I splinched myself.”

Ron gently squeezes a drop of the Essence of Dittany onto Harry’s lip but doesn’t let go of his face. Harry closes his eyes as he feels the pad of Ron’s thumb brush against his cheek.

“That fucking wanker! I’m going to find him and give him the worst case of bat bogies he’ll ever have in his life!” Ron growls.

“Ron he was a muggle,” Harry says, although he’s not really sure why he’s mentioning it. 

“Fine. It’ll be the only case of bat bogies he’s ever had,” Ron says firmly.

Harry doesn’t say anything because he knows what’s coming next. Ron’s going to want the full story and he’s not sure he can deal with what it’s going to cost him to be honest.

“Harry, please tell me the truth this time. You always tell me you’ve been going out to visit Hermione but I know that’s where not what’s happening. I hardly ever see you outside of work and when I do it’s like you’re not yourself. Whatever’s going on, it’s okay. I’ll help you, I promise. Just tell me where you’ve been going?”

Harry takes a deep breath and then exhales with a shudder. He can’t lie anymore, even if Ron never forgives him for this. He pulls away from his best friend’s touch and summons all of his courage.

“I’ve been going out to bars,” he says flatly.

“Why didn’t you ask if I’d like to come along?” Ron asks.

His tone isn’t accusatory, just curious.

“I didn’t want you to know,” Harry mumbles.

“Why? Have you been drinking too much? St. Mungo’s has this program that helps people with that sort of thing,” Ron says.

Harry almost laughs. Only Ron would come to the conclusion that he’s a raging alcoholic.

“No, it’s not drinking too much. It’s…well…they’re not… your sort of bars,” he says.

Ron doesn’t say anything, just waits and watches Harry with a weary expression. Harry takes that as his cue to hurry up and cut to the chase. He doesn’t mean to, but it all comes out in one gigantic, hysterical word vomit.

“They’re gay bars. I’m gay and that’s why Ginny and I broke up, even though I didn’t know I was gay when it happened. And I’ve been going to muggle gay bars hoping to meet other blokes like me because I don’t know anyone in the wizarding world who’s gay, plus there’s the whole being too well known sort of thing. Obviously I wasn’t very good at it and I nearly got myself raped tonight. And now I’ve splinched myself and my whole life has just gone to shit and I don’t know what to do…and….and…”

Harry bites back a sob and scrubs his hand over his face. His eyes are burning with the urge to cry but he refuses to let himself. Ron inches over to sit closer to him. 

“You stupid git, why didn’t you tell me?” he murmurs, resting a comforting hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“I was scared and I thought you’d probably punch me in the face once you found out why I really made Ginny so unhappy,” Harry says.

“Harry you really had nothing to worry about. It was obvious you and Ginny were having problems. I didn’t expect the two of you to stay together and be miserable. I just want you both to be happy, even if you’re not together,” Ron insists.

“You’re still going to punch me when you find out the rest of it,” Harry says dejectedly.

He avoids Ron’s gaze again. He might as well tell the whole truth and get it out into the open. In for a penny, in for a pound he thinks miserably.

“Let’s hear it then,” Ron says.

“I’ve been, er, looking at you lately. I keep telling myself that it’s stupid and I shouldn’t be staring at you. I know you’re straight and all so there must be something really wrong with me. I’m sorry Ron,” Harry says. 

He wants to curl up and die right there on the living room rug but he can’t move. He stays there, rooted to the spot, waiting for whatever expression of disgust is coming his way. 

“Are you saying that you fancy me?” Ron asks in a near-whisper.

Harry lifts his head to finally look at Ron again.

“Yes,” he says.

“Merlin! I thought…oh sod it!” Ron says excitedly.

He leans over and kisses Harry. It takes him completely by surprise but soon enough he responds with equal fire. It’s the most perfect kiss he’s ever had in his life; it’s better than kissing Ginny ever was and even ranks above The Kiss with Lucien. When they break apart Harry looks up at Ron with confusion.

“Did you break up with Hermione because you fancy me?” he asks disbelievingly.

“Yeah, we broke up over my feelings for you. At first I was in denial; I kept trying to tell myself that I was in love with Hermione and that I was happy but it wasn’t true. We were fighting all the time, even over stupid things. I thought about you all the time but I tried to pretend those feelings didn’t exist. Then I said your name in bed. I played it off as a joke the first time and Hermione even thought it was sort of funny but then it happened again and she put two and two together,” Ron explains.

“It must have stung, finding out like that,” Harry remarks.

“That night you firecalled us and we were arguing? We were breaking up because I’d finally admitted how I felt about you. I feel like a complete git about the whole thing and if she never talks to me again I’ll understand. I deserve that but I can’t stop wanting to be with you,” Ron says.

He gets up from the floor and holds out a hand to Harry.

“It’s getting late. I think we both need to go upstairs.”

As Harry takes Ron’s hand and allows himself to be pulled to his feet, a sudden pang of nervousness sweeps over him.

“Uh, Ron? I don’t think I’m ready for that tonight,” he says quietly.

“I meant to sleep!” Ron says quickly. 

“Oh,” Harry says and he can feel a faint blush colouring cheeks.

Ron takes his hand and leads him upstairs. They end up in Ron’s bed together, lying intertwined underneath the blankets to stave off the fall chill creeping into the drafty old house. Harry can’t believe he’s here lying face-to-face with Ron, inches away from being able to kiss him again. 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I wish I’d told you how I felt. I wasted all this time thinking you wouldn’t want me, that you were straight, when I should have just said something. So much for Gryffindor bravery,” Ron murmurs. 

“Hey, I was pretty thick too, now that I think about it. Every time I go round to Hermione’s she keeps saying that the right person should be ‘right under my nose’. She’s been trying to hint at it this whole time and I missed it,” Harry says.

“Please tell me she didn’t tell you the reason why we broke up,” Ron moans, covering his face in his hands.

“She did,” Harry says sheepishly, “But she wouldn’t tell me whose name you said.”

When Ron makes a very embarrassed noise, Harry prises his hands away from his face.

“It doesn’t matter. None of that matters now because we’ve got each other,” Harry says fiercely.

Ron’s face is red but he doesn’t argue. Instead he pulls Harry as close as physically possible and turns off the light. Harry rests his head on Ron’s shoulder and closes his eyes. It’s been a trying night and he’s completely exhausted. After the briefest of moments he finds himself drifting into a peaceful slumber.


	12. Chapter 12

It’s Christmas at the Burrow and everything is chaos. All of the Weasley children have come home this time and there’s not a place in the house that isn’t full to nearly bursting with people, food, and gifts. 

“Ron, Harry, you’re in Ron’s old room,” Molly calls as they trudge up the stairs with their belongings.

Ron’s room is exactly the way Harry remembers it. Everything is still Chudley Cannons orange and cluttered with Quidditch memorabilia, old school books, and bits of junk. Harry smiles as he remembers the time he spent here while growing up. It feels like home to him more than the Dursleys house ever did and he’s glad to be here.

“Merlin! This place is mental. We’re never going to get a minute to ourselves,” Ron complains.

They still haven’t told anyone about their relationship. They’ve been taking things slowly as they try to navigate their feelings for one another while living and working together. Harry knows it will be hard to hide in a house full of Weasleys, many of whom make no bones about being nosy and knowing everyone’s business.

“We’ll be fine. It’s only a few days,” Harry reassures him.

The door’s shut so he risks leaning over to give his boyfriend a quick kiss. Ron’s arms wrap around his waist, pinning them together. Harry wishes they could stay like this forever but soon they’ll have to make an appearance downstairs or everyone will wonder where they’ve got to.

“Ron-“

“I know,” Ron sighs.

Together they head into the stairwell and nearly run smack into Hermione.

“Ron, Harry! How, um, nice to see you both,” she blurts out.

“What are you doing here?” Ron snaps.

“I was invited,” Hermione says somewhat evasively.

“By who?” Ron asks.

Hermione sighs and Harry can see her gathering her courage. 

“Can we talk privately?” she asks.

“Whatever you’ve got to say to me, you can say it in front of Harry,” Ron says irritably.

“George wanted me to be here,” Hermione tells them.

Harry’s eyes widen but her choice of words sails completely over Ron’s head.

“Why would George invite you? You two hardly know each other!” Ron says.

Harry weighs whether or not he should stay quiet. In the end he decides that even if Ron is a bit thick, the penny will eventually drop. 

“Look, I’m sorry. I should have sent you an owl or something but neither of you appear to be speaking to me at the moment,” Hermione says testily. 

“What did I do?” Harry asks.

“Other than drop off the face of the earth?” Hermione snaps.

Harry realizes guiltily that he hasn’t spoken to Hermione in weeks. He’s meant to visit or at least firecall but with Auror training and his budding relationship with Ron he simply hasn’t gotten around to it.

“I’m sorry,” he says and he means it. 

Ron is still staring at her stone-faced so Hermione plunges ahead.

“I started stopping in at Wheezes whenever I was in Diagon Alley. Everyone’s sort of gone on with their own lives and George just seemed so out of sorts. I felt terrible about it so I’d visit the store to say hi. He asked me to have tea with him one day and well, things sort of went from there. We’ve been seeing each other for just over a month now. My parents decided to go to France for Christmas but I couldn’t because of work commitments and George asked if I’d come here. He’d didn’t want me to be alone for Christmas,” she explains.

Ron’s face has turned so red that Harry can practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“And you thought it would be a good idea to spring this on me right when I got here?” he shouts.

“I know how it looks but-“

“I know you and I aren’t on bloody speaking terms but I thought my own brother would at least say something. Owls fly both ways, you know!” Ron bellows.

He storms off down the stairs, leaving Harry and Hermione standing stiffly in the hallway. Hermione looks like she’s caught somewhere between anger and the urge to cry. Harry feels torn between which friend he should help but he tentatively reaches out a hand to comfort her. She brushes him away.

“Go after him,” she says.

“Are you sure?” Harry asks.

“Just go!”

Harry doesn’t need telling again. He bounds down the stairs and charges through the kitchen to catch up with Ron at the front door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he demands.

“Anywhere but here,” Ron mutters. 

“It’s bloody freezing out there and you left your coat upstairs,” Harry says.

“I don’t care,” Ron says petulantly. 

He reaches for the doorknob but Harry gets there first. He throws himself in front of the door to keep Ron from escaping.

“Ron, stop,” he says. “I know it was a rubbish way to find out and it hurts but please don’t leave. It’s our first Christmas together and you’ll ruin it and-“

He can’t finish the rest of his sentence. He’s not sure why he feels so emotional suddenly but his breath catches in his throat and he can feel his eyes burning. He blinks furiously and looks up at the ceiling to avoid Ron’s gaze. Someone, probably George or Charlie, has hung mistletoe in an effort to get anyone near the door to kiss. 

“Harry, I didn’t mean to make you upset, really. I just…wasn’t expecting her to be here and it caught me by surprise,” he says weakly.

“Are you really angry because she’s here or because she’s with someone else?” Harry asks.

Ron’s expression changes to being completely incredulous.

“I can’t believe you’re asking me that, Harry. You honestly think I still have feelings for her?” he says.

“I dunno, do you?” Harry says in a voice thick with emotion.

“No, you daft sod! Honestly, I love you but you’re so thick sometimes!” Ron says with exasperation.

“You love me?” Harry whispers.

Ron’s blushing furiously but he nods. Harry feels his breath catch in his throat and his chest feels like it’s filled with billywigs. For a moment he’s so stunned at the admission that he’s speechless but he manages to find his voice. 

“Love you too,” he says breathlessly.

Then he points up at the ceiling.

“You know, we’re under the mistletoe, right?”

Ron doesn’t need telling twice. He swoops in and kisses Harry, nearly sweeping him off his feet. Harry clings to him like a drowning man with a life raft as the clash together with teeth and tongues for the most smouldering kiss they’ve ever shared.

From a distance someone clears their throat and it’s enough to break the spell. Harry pulls away, only to realize that most of the Weasleys are watching them with looks ranging from amused smiles (George, Hermione, Bill, and Charlie) to complete shock (everyone else). Harry feels his face heating up and he’s sure that he’s probably as red as Ron right now. For a few moments the house is so quiet that they can hear a pin drop as everyone tries to process what they’ve just heard and seen.

Then Hermione pokes Ginny and says, “You owe me ten Galleons.”

“Rats. I was so sure I was going to win,” Ginny complains.

“You had a bet?” Ron asks, looking at the two women as though they’ve each grown an extra head.

“I bet that the two of you would be together by Christmas. Ginny thought it would be Easter,” Hermione says sheepishly.

“I should get a cut of that since I was the one who finally told him how I felt,” Harry complains.

“Nope, not happening,” Ginny says. 

Harry’s surprised when he finds himself laughing. He thought things would be more strained around his ex-girlfriend but she appears to be in good spirits. At least now he knows that she won’t try to hex him the next time his back is turned.

“Come on, let’s get something to drink. I think we need it,” Harry tells Ron and he leads them into the kitchen.

He’s just rummaging through the Weasley’s selection of liquor when Molly corners them both.

“How long has this been going on?” she demands.

Ron looks like he’s about to pass out but he manages to squeak, “Um, a few months?” 

Harry feels his stomach drop as he comes to the realization that not everyone in the family may be supportive. The wizarding world has always had more of a tolerance than muggles for anyone different but that doesn’t mean that some of them can’t be prejudiced as well.

“You should have told me. How am I supposed to make sleeping arrangements for everyone when I have no idea of who’s a couple and who isn’t? I set up separate beds for you two,” Molly grumbles.

When Harry and Ron goggle at her with twin expressions of confusion she softens her tone a little more.

“What? Did you think I was going to disown you or something? Merlin’s beard, you have to give me more credit than that Ronald!”

“So…everything’s okay?” Harry ventures.

“It’s fine. Well, what are you waiting for? Dinner’s almost ready. Go and set the table with the good china. And make sure Charlie stays away from the egg nog. I don’t want him climbing up on the table and dancing like he did last year,” Molly says as she shoos them away.

Dinner is an extremely crowded and noisy affair that night with everyone jammed into the kitchen at all once. Harry manages to squeeze his chair in next to Ron’s at the end of the table and gives him a smile. Ron grins in return. They certainly didn’t mean to come out to the entire family at once but given the circumstances it’s gone rather well. Only Percy has been somewhat of a stick in the mud about it, going so far as to complain that the kiss was inappropriate given that Bill and Fleur’s daughter was present. He doesn’t say much more after Molly cuffs him on the ear and tells him to smarten up though. 

As Harry watches the Weasleys hand around plates of food, chattering loudly, he thinks about how lucky he is to be a part of all this. Growing up with the Dursleys left him yearning for a real family and he’s found that thanks to the wonderful kindness and generosity of this noisy, loving clan. He hopes he can stay forever.

“All right, Harry? You seem kind of quiet,” Ron says.

“I’m great,” Harry says and he truly means it.


	13. Chapter 13

It’s Christmas Day and nightfall has come. After a day filled with gifts and more food than Harry thought was possible for one family to consume, they’re all relaxing. George and Charlie have coerced Percy into a game of exploding snap, which is not going so well for the uptight wizard. It’s already blown up in his face twice and singed his eyebrows, much to George’s delight. Bill’s upstairs putting Victoire to bed while Fleur and Hermione sit at the kitchen table with Molly cradling cups of tea. The remaining family members have already retired to their rooms for the night. 

Ron’s sitting on the sofa in the living room, his body splayed out in the most comfortable position he can find. He’s eyeing the game of exploding snap with heavy lidded eyes, too tired from the day’s events to move. Harry is lying down with his head resting on Ron’s lap, reading a book that Hermione gave him for Christmas. He was originally skeptical of Wallerton’s Wizarding Guide for Male Couples but it turns out that it might be useful. Trust Hermione to think I could learn about relationships from a book, he thinks.

He skims over the first few chapters. There’s some stuff in there about the history of gay wizard rights (which is light years ahead of the muggle movement), advice on coming out, and some tidbits of relationship advice. He decides he’ll read those later when he’s not so tired. Harry skips to the very last chapter of the book and is surprised to discover that it’s about sex, complete with diagrams of cartoon figures which, in true wizarding style, are animated. 

So far all he and Ron have done is a bit of exploration with fingers and tongues and some mutual wanking. One night Harry even attempted a very sloppy blow-job but Ron didn’t seem to mind. He’d told Harry afterwards that it was hot. Harry peruses the section titled Tips and Tricks for Anal Sex. The diagrams explain how to prepare with lubrication and stress the importance of being careful with a first-time partner. The next set shows where the prostate is located and recommends several techniques for stimulating it. 

Harry stares hungrily at the cartoon wizards humping each other on the page. If the book came with sound it would be positively pornographic. He starts fantasizing about trying some of his new-found knowledge on Ron. It might even be better than that time Ron wanked him off on the living room sofa. Harry begins to feel a familiar tingling sensation in his groin and he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. If he keeps thinking about this he’s going to become aroused and, supportive as the Weasleys are, Harry’s sure that none of them want to see that. He gets up from the sofa and holds the book in front of his crotch to keep anyone from noticing that he’s half hard.

“Ron,” Harry says as he shakes his partner’s shoulder. “I’m going to bed and I think you should come too.”

“Why?” Ron says sleepily. 

Harry’s aware that George is eyeing them with a mischievous look on his face so he says, “You’re falling asleep on the sofa. C’mon, you’ll be much more comfortable in bed.”

“Bet you will,” George sniggers.

Harry ignores him and heaves Ron from the sofa to half drag, half carry him up the stairs. When they get to the bedroom he pushes his partner down on the bed and climbs on beside him.

“Harry, what’s gotten into you?” Ron says as he becomes fully awake now.

“I’ve been reading this,” Harry says, brandishing the book. “Look at the last chapter.”

Ron cracks it open to the diagrams and his eyes go wide.

“Bloody hell! Where did you get this?”

“Hermione.”

Ron makes a face and warns, “Do not talk about Hermione while we’re in bed.”

“Hey, you asked,” Harry says.

While Ron stares at the diagrams open-mouthed, Harry is busy trying to kiss every inch of him he can get to. Ron laughs and tosses the book aside.

“Come here, you.” 

He pins Harry down and kisses him slowly. Harry is powerless to resist so he simply opens his mouth to give Ron access. As their tongues tangle together Ron pushes himself against Harry, rubbing their bodies against each other with such wonderful friction that Harry can’t get enough of it. He lets out a soft moan.

Ron pulls away and mutters, “Where’s my wand?”

“Why?” Harry says. 

“Silencing charm. You’ll wake the whole house if I don’t do it.”

“I’m not loud, you are. Remember that night on the couch?” Harry teases.

“It’s a little hard to stay quiet with your mouth on my cock,” Ron says while giving Harry a salacious look.

He finds his wand on top of the bureau and uses it to cast silencing and locking charms. When he climbs back onto the bed, Harry pulls him closer and yanks his shirt over his head. 

“You’ve got too many clothes on,” he pants. 

“So do you,” Ron says.

Clothes go flying everywhere. Ron’s jeans end up on the floor next to the bed, his socks hit the desk, and his briefs fall somewhere near the door. Ron strips Harry of his trousers and boxers and then tosses them somewhere in the direction of the nearest chair where they end up dangling off the back. Harry’s not sure where his shirt got to and he doesn’t really care either because Ron’s on top of him, writhing as though he’s been possessed. Harry reaches out and grabs Ron’s ass, trying to drag him as close as physically possible.

“Ron,” he gasps, “Ron, I want-“

Ron pulls away slightly and says, “What?” 

“Fuck me,” Harry says.

Ron brow furrows as he says, “Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.” 

“The book! It has instructions,” Harry says, rolling away from Ron to search for it. 

He finds it lost in the sheets on the floor. When he returns to the bed with a triumphant look he realizes that Ron is looking at him as if he’s grown an extra head. 

“Are you sure, Harry? This isn’t quite how I pictured taking your virginity. I always thought it would be more… romantic.”

“Yes, I’m bloody well sure. Go to the last chapter. It has a guide,” he says.

“I can’t believe we need an instruction manual in bed,” Ron grumbles but Harry can see the corners of his lips turn up a bit. 

It does put a bit of a damper on the fun to have Ron studying the diagrams while they’re both hard and ready to go but Harry waits patiently. He wants it, needs it. 

“It says here we need a lubrication charm first and then I can use my fingers on you,” Ron says. 

“Do it,” Harry orders. 

Ron laughs at him and reaches for his wand again.

“I love it when you get all bossy on me,” he says. He touches the tip of his wand to Harry’s hole and says, “Lubricatae.”

Almost instantly, Harry feels a slick, oily sensation inside of himself. It’s a little strange but he’s not uncomfortable. Ron grabs the book and balances it on his knee as he studies the figures in the preparation category.

“It says that I should wank you off a bit and then try to put my fingers in you. You still okay?” Ron says.

“Hurry up and get on with it,” Harry says irritably. 

He’s almost painfully hard now and if Ron doesn’t get a move on he’s going to have a serious case of blue balls. Ron conjures some more lube and rubs it on his cock. Harry moans at the friction of Ron’s hand, rubbing steadily along his length.

“So hot,” Ron murmurs as he watches his partner succumb to the pleasure.

After a few moments Ron removes his hand and Harry makes a vague noise of complaint at the loss. Ron’s fingers find their way down to his entrance and he pushes the tip of his index finger inside.

“Not so fast,” Harry gasps. 

It’s not painful but it’s not exactly comfortable either. Ron very slowly sheaths his finger inside of Harry up to the knuckle and then stops.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Fine,” Harry manages. 

They stay like that for a moment, neither one of them really sure what they should do. Then Ron looks at the instructions again and says, “Oh,” like he’s had some sort of revelation. He prods around a little with the pad of his finger and it brushes something deep inside. Harry nearly rockets off the bed and Ron puts a steadying hand on his hip to hold him down.

“Fuck!” Harry moans.

Ron brushes that spot a few more times and by the end of it all Harry finds himself a flushed and panting mess. 

“More,” he gasps.

Ron pushes in another finger and Harry hisses at the sensation. He reaches down to touch his cock but Ron knocks his hands away.

“Not yet,” Ron says. 

He adds another finger and then a third and fourth, experimenting with thrusting his fingers and crooking them at different angles but quickly finds the best way to stimulate Harry’s prostate. Ron may not have been the smartest wizard at Hogwarts but he’s a quick study when it comes to action. Harry moans and squirms around so much that Ron has to push hard on his hip to keep him flat on the mattress.

“Ron! Ron! I want to fuck,” Harry pants, “NOW!”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your wand in knot,” Ron says before reaching for the book again. 

He studies it for a few moments before an increasingly impatient Harry complains that it’s taking too long. 

“Harry, I don’t want to hurt you,” Ron says. 

“You won’t and I know you want this as much as I do,” Harry says as he gestures to Ron’s obviously rock hard cock.

Ron grabs his wand again and uses it lubricate both his cock and Harry’s ass thoroughly. 

“How do you want to do this?” he asks.

“Er-I don’t know. There’s more than one way?” Harry says, feeling somewhat confused. 

“It’s in the book. Maybe we should look at it again,” Ron says but before he can go fishing for it in the sheets, Harry grabs a hold of him and yanks him closer.

“Just do it so I can see your face,” He growls. 

“Bossy git,” Ron says affectionately.

He lines his cock up with Harry’s ass and pushes the tip in almost gently. When Harry sucks in a breath Ron gives him a startled look.

“Am I hurting you?” he says worriedly.

“No. Just go slow,” Harry instructs.

Ron moves at an almost glacial pace, pressing his cock into Harry a few millimeters at a time and pausing every now and then to allow them both to get used to the feeling. To Harry it feels like an eternity before his partner is fully sheathed inside of him. He also notes with much interest, that he feels a nearly uncomfortable fullness, stretching him as far as he can go. Ron’s dick is a bit larger than average and it fills him completely, almost to the point of discomfort. It’s not painful but it will certainly take some getting used to. Ron’s stock-still now with both hands clamped around Harry’s legs, which are resting on his shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” Ron asks for what seems like the millionth time.

Harry has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. 

“I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt or anything; I just need to get used to it is all.”

Harry can tell Ron is trying not to move but eventually the position he’s in gets a bit uncomfortable and he shifts his body slightly. His cock brushes Harry’s prostate and Harry lets out a loud yelp of “Oh fuck!” while arching his body off the bed. When he opens his eyes again Ron is staring at him with pure unadulterated lust.

“Merlin Harry, you’re so tight and so hot,” he breathes.

“Don’t stop!” Harry cries.

Ron begins to thrust, carefully at first, but then with wild abandon when he sees the reaction it produces in his partner. Harry moans, writhes, and arches underneath him, fisting his cock in time with Ron’s frenzied pumping.

“So close,” Ron grunts and his movements become more erratic. 

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” is all Harry can manage as stars explode behind his closed eyes. 

The most intense wave of pleasure he’s ever felt washes over him and suddenly he’s cumming in hot, white spurts all over his fist and Ron’s stomach. Not long after that Ron cries out Harry’s name and he feels a rush of warm, sticky fluid flooding inside of him. Ron collapses on top of him and for a few moments Harry lies there, happy to be pinned by that familiar weight as they both lie there panting. Then it gets to be too much and Harry has to whack Ron on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Ron? You’re sort of squishing me,” he squeaks.

“Sorry,” Ron says.

He rolls off of Harry to lie on his back. Harry props himself up on his side and can’t help grinning.

“That was amazing,” he says.

“Yeah, we’ll definitely have to do that again,” Ron tells him. 

After performing cleansing charms they curl up together, snuggled under Ron’s old Chudley Cannons bedspread. It doesn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning Harry and Ron sleep in, then get up and get dressed to go down for breakfast. Halfway down the landing George pokes his head out of his room.

“Ron? Can you come in here for a second?” he asks.

When Ron looks apprehensively at Harry, he says, “Go on. I’ll go down and make you some toast.”

As George shuts the door behind them Harry continues to the kitchen. He’s just rummaging in the cupboard for the bread when Ginny appears. They exchange quiet ‘good mornings’ before setting about the process of making breakfast.

“Is George in with Ron?” Ginny asks casually.

“Yeah,” Harry says.

“I bet he’s finally explaining the Hermione thing,” she says.

After the kiss in front of the family, Ron grudgingly agreed that Hermione could stay so long as he didn’t have to speak to her. So far the two of them have seemed to pull off never being alone together and have only exchanged words as necessary. 

“George meant to tell Ron, he really did. Hermione wouldn’t because they weren’t speaking to each other so the responsibility sort of fell on George. He kept putting it off though. I told him he should hurry up and do it but he’s been so depressed and his memory’s not what it used to be because of that. Plus the joke shop gets so busy around Christmas. I honestly think it may have just slipped his mind,” Ginny says.

“Are they happy together?” Harry asks.

“Yeah,” Ginny says, “Yesterday he was looking at her and I saw him smile for the first time since Fred died.”

“That’s great,” Harry says.

He doesn’t really want to get into a discussion about how this will complicate things with Ron so he says nothing. For a moment silence descends between them as Harry pushes down his toast and Ginny cracks eggs into the frying pan.

Then Harry says, “What about you? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I’ve er-started seeing someone. We’re still quite new so I didn’t invite him to Christmas. I thought our family might be bit a much for him so early on and he was going away with his family anyways,” she says, flushing slightly.

“Do I know him?” Harry inquires.

“Oliver Wood,” Ginny says without meeting Harry’s eyes.

Harry lets out a snort out of laughter much to Ginny’s obvious dismay.

“Oliver Wood?” he says in a tone that shows he’s completely gobsmacked, “As in former Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and keeper for Puddlemere United? As in, ‘get the snitch or die trying, Harry’?”

“Yes, that Oliver Wood,” Ginny says with exasperation. “He came to one of my matches and hung around to talk to me afterwards. We sort of hit it off and he asked me to have dinner with him.”

“What’s it like dating someone who’s married to his Quidditch pitch?” Harry teases.

“Oh shut up,” Ginny says but she’s laughing and Harry grins at her.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Harry says and he means it.

“Thanks,” Ginny mutters.

Things are still a bit awkward between them, Harry reflects, but it’s nice that they can at least be civil towards each other, unlike Ron and Hermione. Harry wonders how long it will take for them to be on any sort of speaking terms again. He misses the comradery that they had when they were at Hogwarts together and he doesn’t want to be forced to choose between them. His thoughts are interrupted by Ron coming downstairs. He seizes Harry around the waist and kisses his neck. Beside them Ginny makes fake retching noises.

“Oh get a room you two!” she complains. 

“Sorry,” Harry tells her, face flushing with embarrassment. 

“We’re in a room,” Ron points out. 

Harry hands Ron his toast, noticing that he seems significantly more cheerful.

“Everything all right?” he asks.

Ron jerks his head towards Ginny and says, “I’ll explain later.”

Harry nods, understanding that Ron doesn’t want to reveal this sort of private thing in front of his sister. Harry decides that they’ll just have to find an empty room when they have a spare moment. Unfortunately it doesn’t come until they’re in bed together later that night. The house has been so filled with activity that they haven’t had a moment alone all day.

“Ron? What happened with George?” Harry asks.

“He sort of explained about him and Hermione,” Ron says tiredly.

“I gathered that much. But what did he say?”

“Oh. He told me that he’s been horribly depressed since Fred died and that he’s pretty much been unable to function. Mom and dad forced him to see some sort of mental Healer-“

“Psychiatrist. That’s what muggles call them,” Harry supplies.

“I dunno what they’re called. Anyways, they put him on these potions that are supposed to help him feel better but he said it’s a load of rubbish. He’s been shutting himself up in the office of the joke shop and not talking to anyone. Lee and that new guy he just hired do all of the work on the floor now because George doesn’t really want to deal with anyone. He wasn’t inventing any new things either.”

“And how did he end up dating Hermione?” Harry prompts.

Ron looks a bit uncomfortable but he says, “George said he didn’t want to see anyone for a while. Hermione’s persistent though. She kept showing up at the shop whenever she was in Diagon Alley and was asking to see him. Lee would tell her George didn’t want anything to do with anyone but she kept coming back. Finally one day she let herself upstairs and gave him a right telling off for, I quote, ‘not letting his friends and family help him through such a difficult time’.”

Harry lets out a snort of laughter. 

“That’s Hermione for you,” he says.

Ron smiles but it’s completely without humour.

“She kept trying to drag him out of his office. He’d tell her he didn’t want to go but she’d threaten to hex him and he’d give in so they’d have tea together. Then they started going for dinner and well somewhere along the way things got romantic. George wasn’t really clear on that. I suspect maybe he thought I was going to give him a bad case of the bat bogies if he said too much.”

“So Hermione essentially forced him into a relationship with her?” Harry suggests.

“No. I think the resistance was all for show. He was really lonely but he was pushing people away. George says the relationship was really his idea though. He says he had to ask Hermione to go on a proper date three times before she finally agreed. He thinks it was because she was still upset about, um, me. But they got there in the end.”

“Does he seem any better lately?” Harry asks.

“Truthfully he’s been more himself lately. He showed me some ideas he has for an invention. He wants to make this chewing gum that makes your teeth temporarily disappear; Merlin knows why,” Ron says.

Harry rolls onto his side, letting the idea of Hermione dating George sink in. Then he thinks about how she and Ron aren’t getting along and how much he misses their trio. He’s only managed to speak with Hermione a handful of times over the holiday and not once has it been private. He makes a mental note to visit her flat when things get back to normal.

“Ron?” he murmurs. 

“Yeah?” Ron says lazily.

“Do you think…do you think you and Hermione will ever be able to be friends again? I mean Ginny and I are all right but I know it’s not the same for you and…” he trails off, wondering if this was a bad time to bring it up.

To Harry’s surprise Ron doesn’t get angry. He simply turns onto his side so that he and Harry are face to face. 

“I don’t know. I just…”

“What is it?” Harry asks somewhat anxiously as he brushes a strand of soft ginger hair from Ron’s forehead. 

“This whole thing, it’s sort of embarrassing. It’s like one of those weird muggle things about relationships that dad was talking about. You know – a shower opera,” he says.

“You mean soap opera,” Harry corrects him. 

“Whatever. How are Hermione and I supposed to be friends with everything that’s gone on between us? We can’t just pretend it never happened unless we want to obliviate ourselves and I really don’t want to do that,” Ron says.

“Just talk to her,” Harry tells him, “Don’t you miss the three of us being friends?”

“I do. I just wish it were a lot less complicated,” Ron says sleepily.

He yawns then and Harry takes that as a signal to end the conversation. 

“Get some sleep. Tomorrow’s our last day before we have to go back to Auror training,” Harry tells him.

“Urgh. Don’t remind me,” Ron complains.


	15. Chapter 15

It’s morning and everyone is packing up to leave so they can all floo and apparate back to their respective homes. 

“I dare say this has been a wonderful Christmas. Of course there were some surprises but almost everything went off without a hitch,” Mrs. Weasley says as she surveys the chaos around her.

“Fantastic,” Arthur agrees with her. 

Ron and Harry share pointed looks, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. 

“Well, I think we’ll be off now mum. It was good to see everyone,” Ron says cheerfully. 

Mrs. Weasley grabs him and hauls him into a crushing hug, nearly squeezing the life out of him for a few seconds before turning to do the same to Harry. 

“You two look after each other,” she says.

“We will,” Harry promises her. 

After saying their goodbyes to as many of the family as they can get a word with, they make their way to the fireplace. Harry’s just about to grab the floo powder from the shelf when Ron throws up an arm to stop him.

“Be right back,” he says. 

Harry waits patiently, wondering for a split second if Ron has forgotten something. Then he realizes that Ron hasn’t gone upstairs; he’s made a beeline for the chair in the corner where Hermione is sitting, keeping away from the hustle and bustle of the kitchen. Harry sees Ron bend down to say something to her but he’s too far away to hear what it is. He hopes to Merlin that it won’t cause another row between them. To his surprise, Hermione says something back and they both laugh a bit awkwardly. She gets up from her chair so she and Ron can share a brief, if somewhat uncomfortable, hug. Ron turns around and wends his way back through the crowded kitchen to Harry’s side at the fireplace. 

“Everything all right?” Harry asks.

“Yeah, it’s fine. Let’s go,” Ron says.

Harry doesn’t bother to ask Ron what he said to Hermione. He knows that his boyfriend will eventually tell him; for now he’s just glad to have them both on speaking terms. He throws a handful of floo powder into the fireplace and both he and Ron step into the acid green flames.  
When they finally arrive at Grimmauld Place, Ron throws down his things and collapses onto the sofa.

“I’m knackered. I think I’m going to need a vacation,” he jokes while stifling a yawn.

“Budge up you,” Harry says and Ron lifts his long legs for him to sit down. 

Once Harry’s in position, Ron drops his legs into his partner’s lap.

Harry sits there for a moment, his hands caressing Ron’s feet as he thinks about the scene in the kitchen. He’s not jealous, just merely curious as to what had transpired. Hermione certainly hadn’t said anything when Harry had sought her out for his own good-bye. He turns to speak but Ron gets there first.

“I know what you’re going to ask me,” he says.

“I just want to know if you’re on speaking terms again. It would certainly be a lot easier for me not to have my best friend and my boyfriend rowing with each other,” Harry says. 

It’s the first time Harry’s ever used the word boyfriend and he notices Ron flush a bit while looking extremely pleased.

“I just decided it’s time to stop fighting. When I was talking to George he said something to me that really made me think, you know? He told me that life’s too short to be angry with somebody you care about. And I realized that I do still care about Hermione as a friend and well, I sort of miss her,” Ron says.

“About time,” Harry interjects.

“So I told her I was sorry for being an idiot and to not be a stranger. We might not be getting along very well at the moment but I wouldn’t be upset if she stops in to see you. She said she’d think about it. Things are still kind of weird between us but…” Ron trails off.

Harry tweaks Ron’s big toe and says, “You know Ron, I think that’s the most grown-up thing you’ve ever done.”

“I must be getting old then. I even fancy a nap,” Ron jokes.

“Me too; come on, let’s go upstairs,” Harry says.

He heaves himself from the couch, helps Ron up, and drags him upstairs to their waiting bed.


End file.
